


Here There Be Dragonairs

by thepizzasitter



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barduil - Freeform, Barduil Secret Santa, Explicit Language, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon Battle, basically i love pokemon and now the bardlings do too!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 22:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5472305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepizzasitter/pseuds/thepizzasitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She focused, her hands balling into little fists. She had less than six minutes, and she was going to win. Ash Ketchum had nothing on her." In which Pokemon Go! brings people together, Thranduil wants Gimli to keep his hands to himself, and Bard likes to train a type of Pokemon that will shock absolutely no one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here There Be Dragonairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inheritanceofgeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/gifts).



> Barduil modern AU (featuring Pokemon Go!) for inheritanceofgeek and the Secret Santa event. Happy holidays, darlin'!

Looking back, it had all begun so very innocuously: a simple theme song that turned into so much more than anyone in town could have ever anticipated.

A young, animated child setting out to begin a journey to become the best. Not so unusual, except that what he sought to be the best at was not anything Bard had ever encountered, until his kids caught a special kind of show fever.

“ _Pokemon_ is on, da! Come watch with me! Please?” Tilda shouted from the next room, and Bard grinned to himself, already humming the tune to the opening song as he washed his hands of the grime and oil that stained them before making his way into the living room. Tilda hastily scooted over just enough that he could snuggle her close while she turned riveted eyes to the television.

“Bain!” She shrieked suddenly, making Bard jump. They sat in silence for a moment before a loud thumping could be heard from upstairs. A blur of gangly limbs and unruly red curls hurtled itself over the edge of the couch to land on Tilda’s other side.

“I didn’t miss anything?” Bain asked breathlessly, and Tilda shook her head, pointing at the screen where the song was just ending.

“Where’s Sigrid?” She whispered, and Bain shrugged, quietly explaining that she’d had to go help one of the neighbors and would be back in twenty. She expected a full report on what she’d miss. Tilda giggled, but didn’t comment as the trio of trainers began what would clearly shape up to a wild ride of a day.

Bard could recall watching his children as they watched the show that had captured--pun entirely intended--their devotion and feeling a surge of pride and warmth when Sigird came home, hushedly asking what had happened while his younger two shushed her and promised they’d catch her up on a commercial break. There was no one in the world that was luckier than him. No matter how hard or desperate things got, whenever he felt low, he needed only to watch the way his children cared for each other, the way they got so excited by things like this and shared their delight with their siblings, and he knew that every bead of sweat and blood given for them was worth it just to see these moments.

_Who’s that Pokemon?_

“It’s Jigglypuff!” They all shouted at the top of their lungs, dissolving into uproarious laughter when Bain attempted to mimic the Pokemon’s sound.

Bard couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

And then, suddenly he could.

xXx

Bard liked technology, though he wasn’t always the best at navigating it, and his children made sure he was kept up to date on what versions of this or that device was coming out, and how to use it, even if he could only dream of affording most of the things they showed him.

Two years prior, the loves of his life had woken him on his birthday with shouts of glee (and an accidental knee to the stomach) and presented him with a brand new smartphone. He’d sat there in his pajamas, staring at the thing, mouth slightly agape and a massive lump in his throat. He’d tried to speak, to say something-- _anything_ \--but nothing came out as his mind raced.

“Da?” Sigrid’s worried voice finally broke the spell, and he wordlessly shook his head, reaching for them all to draw them close, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “Oh, happy silence?” She asked, muffled by his shirt.

“Yeah,” he croaked, finally managing to pull himself together when Bain muttered something about him being a sap.

“I am completely allowed to be a sap when my children somehow manage to get me such an amazing gift for my birthday, Bain Bowman,” he said, mock-stern, though the effect was rather ruined when he had to swipe at his eyes. He looked to Sigrid, knowing she’d already anticipated the unspoken question.

“We all chipped in. I helped Tilda find small jobs to do for the neighbors or teachers after classes, and Bain literally never spends his money, so he had quite a bit stashed already from birthdays and such. I put part of my paycheck away each week, and we all managed to get enough to get you a better model than we thought. We can show you how to use it, if you have any trouble, but it’s pretty similar to the one you liked the last time we went in for my emergency phone.”

Bard had to bury his face in a pillow this time to stop the tears.

“Saaaaaaaaap,” Bain laughed, cackling as he got swatted with the pillow.

“Have I told you recently that you’re all too good to me?” He asked when he’d gotten another hug from them.

“But you’re the best da in the world!” Tilda shouted, scandalized. Bard laughed and kissed her nose.

“Only because I have the best kids in the world.” Sigrid and Bain pretended to gag and Bard stuck his tongue out at them. “So rude. Who raised you, anyways? Don’t answer that. Okay, I’m already lost. Where is the settings app? The icons are different on this one…”

The day had been spent in their pajamas, setting up the phone, teaching Bard how to use it, and attempting to beat each other’s high scores on the free games.

xXx

Now, there was a new app on his phone; one that was already proving to be the most enjoyable by far.

 _Pokemon Go!_ had launched in the summer, and Bard suddenly had three wide pairs of eyes on him as soon as the announcement had finished.

“Da,” Tilda whispered. “Did you see that?”

“I did, darlin’. I was standing right behind you.”

His littlest opened her mouth, then closed it, biting her lip. The app cost money each month to play. Not a lot, but enough to make her hesitate, and it nearly broke Bard’s heart. Percy had retired and sold the shop, which meant his job as a mechanic was suddenly gone. Ever an amazing boss, he’d helped Bard find a new job at the local gym as a personal trainer, though the pay wasn’t what Bard had been promised, what with the manager being an absolute sleaze ball and a git to boot. Still, it was enough to keep them in house and fed, and Bard could spare the little bit it would take to gift his children with something they could enjoy as a family.

“Will you help me download it?” He asked, and watched their faces light up like he’d given them the sun, moon, and stars all at once. Sigrid’s eyes were knowing as she showed him how to download the app; something she knew he’d learned well over a year ago.

“Alright, let’s see, what should our username be?”

He thought his eardrums might burst from the sudden shouting of various names, and the subsequent good-natured bickering that followed.

xXx

“C’mon, Bain! Why are you so _slooooow_?” Tilda drawled, shrieking when Bain retaliated with a snowball.

“I don’t see you helping drag the stuff for the fort!” He shouted back, pausing to catch his breath for a moment. “Why do I gotta pull the sled?”

“Because you volunteered,” Sigrid said drily, eyes searching the area for a good spot. “Not too much farther though. We can set up by that tree and then finish up our steps and see what kind of Pokemon we encounter this time.”

“I swear, if it’s another freakin’ Pidgey, I will break something.”

‘So long as it’s not da’s phone, I’ll probably help you destroy it,” Sigrid agreed, setting her backpack down on a dry patch beneath the tree. “Alright, it shouldn’t take long to make camp. Bain, would you help hold this? Tilda, you can go ahead and start walking, but if anything attacks, make sure you call for us, okay?”

“Will do!” She chirped, holding the phone close to her face as she began to pace towards the open field. “Please be something really good,” she whispered to the cold air. “It’ll be the first one I get to catch for myself.”

As she walked, she could hear Sigrid and Bain setting up and talking about coming back to do some archery with their da. The clearing and the forest surrounding it was part of an old estate that was owned by the wealthiest man in town. Everyone knew he was a bit of a shut-in, and Tilda had never seen him before, but his son, Legolas, was in Sigrid’s class and was one of the nicest people around, in Tilda’s expert opinion. He’d joined her group of friends quickly, and came over so often that their da joked about having another son. She couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting Legolas for a brother, except maybe Gimli, since he looked at Legolas the way Sigrid sometimes looked at Fili when she thought no one was watching.

She hummed to herself, thinking about how Fili had asked da what her favorite thing to do was, and had immediately gotten everyone to download the _Pokemon Go!_ app when he’d been informed that their family game was important to all of them. They’d all gone out for gaming and had been on a raid or two in town. She’d even been invited, and watched excitedly as they battled and trained. She couldn’t help but beam whenever they asked her opinion. She was so lucky to have Sigrid and Bain for siblings. Everyone else could only pale in comparison.

The thought drew her to look up toward where they were making camp, only to suddenly realize she couldn’t see them anymore. Her head jerked up, eyes wildly searching the space around her, and none of it was familiar. Panicked, she shouted for them, but the wind was louder here, and she didn’t know how far she’d wandered, or if they could hear her. Suddenly the phone beeped, and she looked down through the beginnings of worried tears to see a notification on the app that she’d encountered a wild Pokemon! With shaking hands, she opened the 3-D glasses and put them on, only to see an Eevee prancing through the snow, chasing its tail and rolling around on its back. _Her favorite_. If she’d remembered to bring the headphones, she knew she’d have heard its call as she watched it open its mouth when it noticed her.

Tears froze against her cheeks, watching helplessly as it took its stance and the app suddenly launched her into battle mode, a timer flashing at the top of the screen. “No,” she murmured. “No, no, no! No, not yet! Wait!” She cried, but it was no use. “Bain! Sigrid!” She screamed, and the wind swallowed the sound once more. “ _No_ ,” she moaned, crying harder. She couldn’t do anything, not without Bain and Sigrid. She couldn’t use their Pokemon, or throw a Pokeball, or use any items without their password. They never used the app without each other, so there had never been a reason to tell it to her. They’d said they were going to give it to her today, now that there was a new batch of Pokemon to catch, so she could catch her own whenever they went out together, and it was going to be a big celebration like the ones in the show. Sigrid had even made cookies that looked like Pokeblocks for the occasion!

“It’s not fair,” she whimpered, watching as the timer slowly ticked down. In less than fifteen minutes, the Eevee would run off, and she’d lose her chance to catch her absolute favorite Pokemon for who knew how long.

“Are you alright?” A voice suddenly cut clearly through the air near her, and she startled, scream catching in her throat at the unexpected sound. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was on my way in from walk, and I heard someone yelling. Are you lost?”

The man standing in front of her was definitely a fairy, she decided immediately. Or maybe an elf. Or something equally magical. He was tall, taller than her da, and had blue eyes that looked like the sky had gotten caught in them, and hair she immediately wanted to braid. Hanging out with Sigrid’s friends had only fueled her love of all things hair-care, and her da said she would make an amazing salon stylist if she ever decided to do it for a job.

She sniffled and nodded, glancing down at the phone again before she swiped a gloved hand across her running nose.

“I was trying to catch the Eevee, but I wandered away from Sigrid and Bain, and they have the password.” She burst into tears again at how stupid she felt, biting her lip to try and stop being such a baby.

A tissue was suddenly at her nose, and she blinked through tears to see the man crouched before her. “Blow,” he instructed calmly, and she did, grimacing. She hated it when her nose ran. He chuckled softly at her expression, and the sound was prettier than music. “Am I correct in assuming you’re talking about the Pokemon app my son enjoys?” At her surprised look, he smiled. “You mentioned Sigrid. Legolas talks about her and Bain all the time. You must be Tilda, then.”

“Legolas talks about us?” She asked, a warm feeling settling in her chest. “Are you his da?”

“I am,” the man said, nodding in approval. “And he talks about you all so often I feel as if we’re already acquainted. He holds you each in the highest esteem, you know.”

“He’s like another brother to us!” She blurted excitedly. “And he’s so smart and knows everything about archery, and Bain thinks he’s the best, even better than da, but they had a match once and Legolas said he doesn’t think anyone could beat our da! And he thinks you are the best father in the world, he says so all the time!”

A strange look from Thranduil--she remembered his name now--halted her rambling. “I’m...thank you for telling me that, Tilda. That was...unexpected, but I suppose I didn’t…” He trailed off, eyes suddenly somewhere far away, like da’s sometimes got when he sat by the window for a long time.

The forgotten phone beeped in her hand, and she looked down to find eight minutes left, the Eevee still awaiting her first move. She already felt a little better thanks to Mr. Thranduil, but couldn’t help the disappointment that hung like a cloud around her.

“Oh,” Thranduil suddenly murmured, and slipped a hand into his pocket, drawing out a sleek phone that made the one in her hand seem like those big brick phones, as Sigrid called them. “I haven’t played in a long while, since Legolas had friends to battle with him, but if you use my account, I can trade the one you’re trying to catch to you when we find your siblings.” He typed in his password and held out his phone to her like it wasn’t probably worth more than a dozen of da’s phone and the answer to all her problems.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, it’s my very first Pokemon, and I love Eevee more than any other Pokemon!” She nearly leapt into Thranduil’s arms, practically shaking with excitement when she put the 3-D glasses back on and turned to face the battle. She focused, her hands balling into little fists. She had less than six minutes, and she was going to _win_.

Ash Ketchum had nothing on her.

xXx

“Tilda! We’ve been worried sick! What happened? Where were you? Who is this?” Sigrid’s voice was sharp with relief and anger, eyes narrowing when she saw Tilda was not alone.

“Sigrid! Sigrid, I caught an Eevee! I was lost, and so scared, and I called for you, but you couldn’t hear me, and then the phone started beeping and I was crying and then Mr. Thranduil saw me and let me use his phone to catch the Eevee and told me we could use my tracks in the snow to find my way back, even though they were mostly gone from the wind blowing them away! Isn’t that cool? Like a...like a…”

“Ranger,” Thranduil murmured helpfully. He smiled gently at Tilda’s wide grin.

“Yes, ranger! Or an elf! Doesn’t he look like an elf to you, Sigrid?”

Her older sister turned an impressive shade a red, though that could have been the cold. “Tilda...you can’t just...Mr. Oropherion, I am very for the inconvenience. Thank you so much for delivering my sister back safely. We were getting ready to call my da and the sheriff to help look for her.”

“It was no trouble at all, Miss Sigrid. It was a privilege to meet my son’s friends, even if the circumstances left something to be desired.”

Sigrid and Bain wore matching expressions of shock. They looked to Tilda, who beamed. “Legolas talks about us! Mr. Thranduil says he likes us!”

“An understatement,” Thranduil said, smiling a little. “The weather is beginning to take a nasty turn, however, and even if you lived at the edge of my grounds, it would still be too long a walk to reasonably make before the storm we’ve been warned about hits. Would you accompany me back to my home so you can wait for your father? Legolas is home, and I know he’d be pleased to see you all and celebrate with Miss Tilda as she regales you with tales of the battle.”

Bain looked to Sigrid, who looked like she was warring between propriety and practicality. The latter seemed to win out, and she smiled. “Thank you very much. I’m sorry you’re going to all this trouble--”

He held up a hand. “Truly, it is no imposition at all. Come, the house is not so far from here.”

Bain threw and arm over Tilda’s shoulder as they walked, and he rapped his knuckles lightly on her temple. “You’re gonna have to apologize to Sigird later. I thought she was going to bite my head off. Don’t scare us again like that, okay?” He whispered. “I’m too young to be decapitated!”

She snorted, nodding. “I know, I will. Wait, but then it’d be even! One boy and one girl so we couldn’t boss you around.”

Bain smirked and rolled his eyes. “I can handle myself. And I’d take having you around over the better odds any day.”

_Definitely the luckiest girl in the world_ , she decided.

xXx

He tried to calm down as he drove, he really did, but he knew from the moment he took in the expressions on his children’s faces--accompanied by the wary one on Legolas’s--that the look on his face must be darker than a storm cloud.

He’d gotten a call from an unknown number, and a _butler_ , of all the ridiculous...well. He’d been informed that his children were safe in the _goddamned Mirkwood Manor_ where they were spending the afternoon with Legolas after an incident involving Pokemon and Tilda going missing.

He felt he was a little justified in being a bit beyond upset, and if that showed on his face, at least he could assure his children that it was fear and not anger that was undoubtedly causing them a bit of a scare when they took in his disheveled appearance.

He’d broken nearly every rule of the road and was possibly going to be fired for flipping Alfrid off as he’d nearly sprinted to his car after hastily cancelling a training appointment mid-session with a client. She’d been understanding, but management wasn’t. He’d be paying for it later.

Right now, however, he caught sight of Tilda and rushed to her, taking her shoulders gently in his hands and scrutinizing her to make sure everything was okay.

“I’m sorry, Da,” she squeaked, eyes already beginning to brim over, and he shushed her pulling her into his arms. He breathed deeply, already feeling a little calmer now that it was clear they were alright.

“It’s okay, darlin’. I was so worried, and we’ll have to talk about what to do to make sure this doesn’t happen again, but I’m not mad. It’s alright, c’mon now love, don’t cry or I’ll start crying and embarrass everyone.”

He smiled when that coaxed a laugh from his littlest. “Now, knowing you lot, there’s a good story to go with all this, but right now we need to get going or the storm is going to be very unkind to us.”

“Ada says you’re welcome to stay here until the storm passes,” Legolas piped up from his seat beside Bain on the sofa. “We have plenty of guest rooms, and I don’t know about you, but I’d definitely feel better knowing you’re all safe instead of out in the storm.”

“Thank you, Legolas, that’s very generous, but I really don’t think--”

“I’m afraid I must insist, Mr. Bowman.”

Bard turned to the newcomer, thinking it was the butler he’d spoken to before, and froze when he took in the man leaning standing near the entrance to the room.

If this was the butler, he thought a little hysterically, it was no wonder he’d been hired. If he had the kind of wealth this place boasted, he’d hire the most beautiful person in the world, too.

The family resemblance to Legolas was hard to miss, however, and he knew this was definitely _not_ the staff.

“Thranduil Oropherion,” the man said, not moving to shake hands or even step forward from his place by the door. “I do not relish in the idea of aiding Miss Tilda only for it to be for nothing when your car gets blown off the road or buried in snow.”

“Bard Bowman.” He was proud of his voice for not shaking as he tried to drag his focus back to the matter at hand and off…well, a different set of hands. “And truly, I wouldn’t want to impose. The forecast said the storm won’t hit for at least a half an hour. We’ll be home by then.”

As if to directly make him look like a complete idiot, the wind picked up outside, howling like a beast of the dark fit to tear them all to ribbons. Thranduil’s smirk let Bard know he’d already lost.

He sighed. “Alright. Guess there’s no help for it. Thank you for your help, both with Tilda and now...this. Um, we’ll try to stay out of your way.”

Thranduil’s expression barely changed, but for a moment Bard saw something like... _sadness? wistfulness? regret?_ on his face.

“There’s no need to tiptoe,” Thranduil said softly, looking just over Bard’s shoulder. “This house has plenty of room, and the children can be as loud as they like. Perhaps Miss Tilda can tell her story at dinner? It’s rather nice, being the only one in the know, but I suppose I can be generous with our adventure,” he said, smiling at his daughter, just a small turn of the lips that had Bard’s heart racing. _Oh._

“Okay! And then can we trade my Eevee so I can name it?”

“Of course. If you don’t have one already picked out, perhaps we can all think of one together.”

Tilda’s smile could have powered a small city. _I think I might be royally fucked_ , Bard thought with sudden clarity.

xXx

A light knock drew him from looking out across the grounds of the manor. He was sitting at the window, had lost himself to the beauty of the storm and the whir of his thoughts a while ago. It was rare he had time to simply sit and be, and it never failed to work magic on his soul. He rarely realized how much tension was coiled in him, how he never stopped moving, until something forced him to be still. It was exhausting, and always left him aching, but the good, bone deep kind of ache that came with a really good workout or a week spent stripping and rebuilding a car.

“Yes?” He called, and was only somewhat surprised to see Thranduil step into the room. God, but he looked ethereal in this light. It was really too bad, the circumstances being what they were. If Bard thought he had a chance in hell with this man, he might have said something about how Thranduil looked like something out of one of Tilda’s favorite books. Perhaps a fae of some sort, though Thranduil would probably be insulted if he said as much. Still, Bard already could tell he was going to be uncomfortable every time Tilda requested the story of the Elvenking from now on. _The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree_ , he thought wryly. _She certainly didn’t get the daydreaming from Vicki._

“I came to ask if your room was to your liking,” Thranduil finally said, after a long moment in which Bard knew he’d been staring at the taller man’s eyes.

Bard blinked. Could anyone actually have a complaint about this room, other than perhaps the overabundance of unnecessary silk pillows on the bed?

“It is, thank you,” he said awkwardly, mentally hitting himself. “I, ah, still feel bad you had to go to all this trouble, but thank you nonetheless. That was some adventure Tilda had today, and I’m glad you were there to help her in this very important time in her life,” he chuckled, heart beating erratically when Thranduil’s lips betrayed that little smile again.

“A first Pokemon, that is certainly an accomplishment, especially to hear Legolas tell it. She should be very proud of herself.”

“That’s my girl for you. Give her a pair of wings and she’ll not only fly, she’ll build an elaborate castle in the clouds to live in and--” He stopped and felt his cheeks burning. The usual response to his encouraging her imagination was not a positive one, but then, the majority of this town had no imagination to speak of anyways, so he’d always felt she made up for what they lacked.

Thranduil didn’t look like he was about to give a well-meaning lecture, though. Everything about him was...soft. In a way he could already tell was not this man’s normal countenance.

“It’s obvious she gets her brilliance from her father. As well as the independence, I imagine.”

Bard smiled ruefully. “Aye, most people say pig-headed, but thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, before Thranduil slowly moved further into the room. “Bard...I realize this may be unsurprising, given my reputation in town--no, no need to placate, I’m aware of the gossip--but I...never open my home. To anyone. At all. Legolas actually tried to feel my forehead when I told him that your family was welcome to stay. When I asked why he was looking outside, he muttered something about this storm being related to hell freezing over, which is really a rather valid worry, I suppose, in his mind. But your family...well, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve all cast a bit of a spell over this house.” He stepped closer, and Bard felt every molecule in his body aching to do the same.

“That’s a little fanciful, don’t you think?” He breathed, hardly daring to blink, and fuck but his accent was deepening. He was nervous, and aroused, and his voice was a dead giveaway. “We’re pretty plain folk. Not really the type to have magic in our blood.” _You, on the other hand..._

Thranduil hummed thoughtfully, and he was close enough that Bard imagined he could feel it rattle in his bones. “You’re anything but plain, Bard. In fact, that’s practically an insult to my taste, you know.”

“And I’m your taste in what, exactly?” _Oh god, this was happening._

“May I?” He was so close, so overwhelmingly near, and even had Bard not known what he was requesting permission for, he still would have said ‘yes’.

“By all means,” he rumbled, the words coming from deep in his chest, and let his mouth be taken in a slow, soft kiss. It was unhurried, languid and so gentle he nearly trembled when Thranduil tilted his head to fit their lips together more perfectly. It was warm, easy like nothing in his life had ever been, with no intentions beyond savoring the delicious ebb and flow of this subtle seduction. There wasn’t much seducing to be done, at any rate. Bard was already well and truly besotted. He could only hope they’d have time to discuss their expectations before the night was through. With three kids and a job he (hopefully) still had, there wasn’t much room for casual. He supposed he could be persuaded if it was all Thranduil could give, but if Thranduil’s eyes, melted from cold ice into the warm waters of a beach, were any indication, he might not be alone in that.

“Wow,” Bard murmured, a bit breathless.

“Agreed.” They stood for a while longer, arms about the other, trading soft kisses as the fancy took them, until a thump and a sudden squeal from downstairs had them both looking to the door. They had just enough time to slowly--and more than a little reluctantly--untangle themselves before Bain was suddenly in the doorway, disheveled and grinning.

“We’re having a battle downstairs! Legolas is getting his arse kicked by Sigrid, a bunch of their friends are on their way ‘cause Legolas called them to make it a proper sleepover. Kili’s truck can make the trip, and everyone wants you two to have a battle at some point!”

The speed with which he’d arrived was rivalled by the speed with which he left to thunder back down the stairs as soon as he’d delivered his message.

The pair stood shell-shocked, staring at where Bain had been for a moment before Thranduil let out a low groan.

“I know, but we can continue this later,” Bard promised, kissing the underside of Thranduil’s jaw teasingly, giddy beyond belief at the thought of _later._

“We will most _definitely_ be continuing this later,” Thranduil promised, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “But I was groaning in disgust, not disappointment.”

Bard frowned, his confusion evident.

“There are going to be _Durin boys_ in my house. This is your fault. I gave the go ahead for your family to stay and now Legolas thinks it’s acceptable to let that mangy pair of brothers and their cousin to have free reign of my house.” 

“I take it you don’t like Oakenshield, then?”

The glare he received said it all. “I used to think there was nothing worse than Legolas and my goddaughter, Tauriel, hanging around such rifraff, especially when they had your exemplary children to interact with. And then I learned things could always get worse when their redheaded cousin started panting around my son like a dog in heat. Ugh!” He threw his hands up exasperatedly, and Bard tried not to laugh. If this thing they’d started lasted, he was sure he’d get the full story. “It’s not funny! I’m going to lose my son to that lout of a boy, and I’ll be damned if I let it happen without a fight.”

“In that case, we should probably get downstairs so we can at least strike fear into their hearts or something suitably dad-ish. I’m eager to see how Fili is doing. He’s been trying to work up the nerve to ask Sigrid out for months, but I think she’s going to beat him to it.” If asked, he’d put money on his daughter. She’d never been one for nonsense.

“Of the two brothers, at least he’s the more sensible one.”

“They’re both kind hearted and good natured, if a little spirited, but c’mon. Just think of the comparison. They’re a thousand times more pleasant than Oakenshield.”

Thranduil grumbled but conceded the point.

“I suppose we should join them, then. I told Tilda I haven’t used this app in a long while. I’m afraid I’ll be of no use in terms of intimidation.”

“No worries, I’ll handle that.”

“Oh? I had no idea you played so avidly.”

“I have three kids and we have one phone with the app between us. It’s always been our family thing, but I think I actually play more than they do. It’s addicting.”

“I know there are different types of Pokemon, and people tend to favor certain types over others. Is your type and battle prowess suitably terrifying enough to at least make an impression?”

Bard grinned, turning to saunter towards the stairs. “Aye, no worries there.”

“Well, what type do you use?” Thranduil asked, following, only to be tugged forward for a quick, heated kiss. Bard pulled back after a few moments, enjoying the slightly dazed expression the other wore, and winked.

“Dragon.”


End file.
